


know in your heart it will be worth it

by happyeverafter72



Category: Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Eventual Smut, Kissing, Love Confessions, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72
Summary: Mary Morstan knows that Holmes and Watson are in a relationship. She also knows that she is in love with both of them. Rating is for later chapters.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Mary Morstan/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. head first, no regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a threesome. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> The work and chapter titles are lyrics from Aquaman by WALK THE MOON (stunning live performance here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YA5aPoyCDag).

It was with a large amount of trepidation that I knocked on the door of 221b Baker Street. I was fairly sure that I had entirely taken leave of my senses. 

Just as I was seriously considering leaving, the landlady opened the door. “Hello, my dear,” she greeted me. 

“Hello,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Are Mr Holmes and Dr Watson at home?” 

“They are. Please come in. It’s Miss Morstan, isn’t it?” 

I nodded. “Thank you.” 

She took my cloak and hung it up, before moving toward the stairs. “Do please come up.” 

I climbed the stairs behind her and stopped outside the door to the sitting room. She knocked on the door, then waited. 

After a short pause, Mr Holmes called, “Yes?” 

The landlady opened the door and ushered me inside. “Miss Morstan to see both of you. I’ll bring you up some tea.” 

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson,” Mr Holmes dismissed her. Then he turned to me. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Miss Morstan. How may we assist you?” 

He seemed as cool as usual, but his companion looked rather flustered. There was a hint of a blush on Dr Watson’s cheeks, as though my arrival had interrupted something between them. 

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I answered him. “It is not a need for assistance that brings me back to you. I wish to speak to you about a – er... - personal matter.” 

I could feel myself blushing now and Mr Holmes spoke to me kindly. “Please take a seat. Feel free to share whatever is on your mind.” 

I sat on the settee and both gentlemen settled in their armchairs. I twisted my hands in my lap, my eyes cast down, searching for the words to articulate what was in my heart. 

Head first, no regrets, I said to myself. Taking another steadying breath, I began. “You should know first that I have been brought up to be open-minded. Nothing I am about to say is meant to degrade or entrap you. 

“While you were assisting me in the business of my father’s treasure, I had ample opportunity to observe the two of you. It quickly became apparent to me that you share a highly intimate connection and that you make each other very happy. In short, it is clear to me that you are deeply in love with each other.” 

I could see worried looks passing between the two of them. “There is no need to be worried,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. “I have never understood the criminalisation of love. Indeed, it is love I wish to speak of. 

“Since the closure of your investigation, I have found my thoughts dwelling increasingly on the both of you. It is a highly irregular situation, but I find I have fallen in love with you both, simultaneously.” 

Silence fell between use. Both gentlemen were gazing at me scrutinisingly and I blushed furiously, once more lowering my eyes to my lap. I felt certain they would throw me out for expressing such feelings. 

Mrs Hudson came back in with the tea and Mr Holmes thanked her. He went to pour the tea and Dr Watson moved to sit beside me on the settee. 

“You are a very brave young woman, Miss Morstan,” Dr Watson said kindly. “There are not many who would be so direct about such feelings.” 

“You do not think me disgusting?” I asked hesitantly, hardly able to believe what he had said. 

“Far from it,” he replied. “As you have realised, we too experience attractions that are frowned on by society.” 

Mr Holmes passed both of us cups of teas, before taking his own back to his chair. He regarded me as he sipped. 

Dr Watson spoke up again. “Holmes and I spoke of you after the case. We both said we thought you very attractive.” 

I smiled slightly. “That is very gratifying.” 

“This is certainly an interesting proposition, Miss Morstan,” Mr Holmes said. “I believe it has possibilities worth exploring.” 

Dr Watson laughed. “Good grief, Holmes. You make it sound like a scientific exercise.” 

Mr Holmes smiled. “You know, Watson, that I feel more at home discussing science than emotions. I apologise if I offended you, Miss Morstan.” 

“Not in the least,” I replied. “I’m glad you take that view. The question is, where do we go from here?” 

“I would suggest that you visit us again next Friday,” Mr Holmes responded. “We can get to know you better, and vice versa. I think that is as far ahead as we should look.” 

Dr Watson and I both agreed with this. We talked more while we finished our tea, although I do not remember clearly what about. Dr Watson escorted me to the door when we had finished. 

“I really must thank you for coming to us,” he said as he helped me on with my cloak. “I am very much looking forward to next week.” 

“As am I,” I replied earnestly. 

He kissed my cheek softly before opening the door and ushering me out. I am certain I was still blushing when I got home.


	2. no rules, we can stay as long as we want

The week crawled by slowly. My charges were fractious and disengaged, making my work several times harder. It was with great relief that I dismissed them to their mother’s care on the Friday evening and prepared myself for my outing. 

I had a hot bath and washed my hair. I could feel the tension that had accumulated over the day leave me, leaving only anticipation of the evening ahead. Once I was fully cleansed, I dressed in an ensemble that would help me feel confident. I twisted my hair up into an elaborate bun, pinning it in place carefully. 

When all this was done, I stepped out to hail a cab and was soon on my way. Upon reaching Baker Street, I knocked upon their door and was presently admitted by Dr Watson. 

“Good evening, Miss Morstan,” he greeted me, stepping aside to allow me to enter. “Mrs Hudson is away, so we shall not be disturbed.” 

I smiled. “I’m pleased to hear it,” I replied. I knew that I ought to find the need for such secrecy sad, which it was indeed, but I also thought it rather exciting. 

Blushing slightly at this thought, I followed Dr Watson up to the sitting room, where Mr Holmes was waiting for us. 

“Do please sit down, Miss Morstan,” Mr Holmes said, gesturing to the settee. “We shall have everything arranged for supper directly.” 

If I did not know better, I would have said that he was almost flustered. He moved swiftly about the room, making sure that everything was in its proper place. 

“Can I do anything?” I asked, eager to be of use if I could. 

“That’s quite alright,” Dr Watson responded. “We have everything in hand. Besides,” he added, “you look so lovely that it would be a shame to spoil it.” 

I blushed in earnest at this compliment. Rather boldly, I ventured to reply, “I could equally say that the both of you look far too handsome to be rushing about.” 

Dr Watson smiled, and I thought I could discern a slight blush on Mr Holmes’s cheeks. It did not take long for them to prepare. Supper was a lamb stew, prepared by Mrs Hudson and slow cooked throughout the day. We talked about what we had each been doing during the week. Truly, their anecdotes were far more interesting than any of mine, but we got along well. Dr Watson, especially, seemed to be genuinely interested in what I had to say. 

In what seemed no time at all, it reached 10 o’clock. It really would not do for me to stay out any later, so I excused myself. “I have had a lovely evening, but I’m afraid I must go.” 

“Thank you for giving us your company,” Mr Holmes replied. “It has indeed been a most pleasant evening. Would you care to come again next week?” 

I thought there was a little trepidation in his tone when he asked the question. 

“Is that an invitation?” I asked. 

“It is.” 

I smiled. “Then I should be delighted to come again.” 

He returned my smile. “I am glad to hear it.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Weekly visits became our regular pattern. I felt I was getting to know both gentlemen well, and hoped they felt the same about me. We all got on well and we frequently laughed together. I did feel, however, that I had grown closer to Dr Watson than to Mr Holmes. There was something closed off and stiff about the detective. I expressed this to Dr Watson one week when he escorted me downstairs. 

“That’s just Holmes’s way, Miss Morstan,” he reassured me. “He finds it difficult to open up to people. I assure you, he is very fond of you.” 

“That’s a relief,” I replied. Then I added, “I do wish you would call me Mary.” 

“You must call me John in return,” he replied with a smile. 

“John.” 

“Mary.” 

Then he kissed me, very softly, on the lips. A brief brush, nothing more. 

“Was that okay, Mary?” he asked. 

“Yes, John,” I replied. “Could you do it again?” 

He laughed, then inclined his head to kiss me again. We lingered longer this time, our lips caressing. His moustache tickled slightly. We both smiled when we pulled away, caught in a happy bubble. 

I sighed a little. “Now I really do need to go home.” 

He helped me on with my cloak before kissing me one more time. 

“Goodnight, my dear.” 

“Goodnight.”


	3. slow dancing in the darkness

The closeness that was developing between me and John continued over the coming weeks. We increasingly shared casual touches and kisses. Mr Holmes seemed happy with this, even enjoying seeing our comfortable intimacy. On one occasion, he even went so far as to join us on the settee while we cuddled. 

One week, I arrived at my accustomed time to be greeted by a boy. 

“Are you Miss Morstan?” he asked. 

“I am.” 

“Mr Holmes asked me to tell you he’s alone tonight, on account of the doctor working late. He says he won’t mind if you don’t want to stay.” 

My heart broke a little at those words. Did Mr Holmes really think so little of himself? 

“Of course, I shall stay,” I said. 

The boy moved aside to let me in. “Do you need me to take you up?” 

“No, that’s alright. I know the way.” 

I hung up my cloak and ascended the stairs. Pausing before knocking on the door, I could hear Mr Holmes pacing around the room. I knocked. 

“Come in,” he called. 

“Good evening, Mr Holmes,” I said as I entered. 

He looked slightly nervous. “Did Billy tell you that I am alone this evening?” 

“He did.” 

“And you still wish to stay?” 

“For someone who makes his living through being observant, you are awfully silly sometimes,” I said, shaking my head. “I love both of you, Mr Holmes. Of course, I want to spend time with you.” 

Looking relieved, he gestured for me to sit on the settee. He sat beside me. 

“Well, how was your week?” 

“Frustrating,” I said, settling back with great relief. “The children have been promised a trip to the Natural History Museum this weekend, so they have been excited all week.” I sighed and shut my eyes briefly. “Why don’t you tell me about whatever you’re working on?” 

“A rather annoying case, frankly,” he replied. “A man who believes his wife is having an affair. She is very much younger than him, and rather lower in social standing. They married a little over a year ago and she has been shunned by other ladies of their acquaintance. He has asked me to find out where she goes so often, but nothing have I been able to find. She has certainly covered her tracks well. For what it’s worth, I do not believe she is having an affair. She sounds like a sweet girl, but I have been unable to prove anything.” 

“Might I be permitted a theory?” I asked after a pause. 

“By all means.” 

“I suspect she is taking etiquette lessons,” I said. “You said that she has not been brought up as a lady and that the other society ladies have shunned her. These things matter to women, something men do not seem to understand.” 

He was looking at me, his eyes bright. “Mary, you’re a wonder.” 

He moved forward suddenly and kissed me. I was stunned but managed to respond. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine. 

“I do love you, Mary,” he murmured. “I just don’t find it easy to show it.” 

I brought up a hand to cup his cheek, my thumb tracing over the cheekbone. “I know, Sherlock. It’s okay.” 

He sighed slightly, leaning into my touch. “Would it be alright if I kissed you again?” 

I giggled. “Yes.” 

So, he did. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

After supper, we cuddled up together on the settee. I rested my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me, our hands linked in my lap. We were still in this position, and I was reading to Sherlock from my book, when John came back in. 

“You look cosy,” he observed, moving over and kissing us both in turn. 

“We’ve passed a very pleasant evening, haven’t we, my dear?” Sherlock said. 

“Yes, we have,” I agreed, kissing his cheek. 

Having removed his coat and shoes, John joined us on the settee. He laid a hand over the joined ones in my lap, stroking our intwined fingers. He related his day and why he was so late. 

“I am absolutely exhausted,” he concluded. 

Yawning a little myself, I looked up to the clock. It was, indeed, very late. 

“I hadn’t noticed how late it’s become,” I said. “I really ought to go.” 

“You don’t have to,” John cut in. “You could borrow a nightshirt and stay.” He seemed a little embarrassed after this. “Of course, I don’t mean to imply anything.” 

I laughed. “Of course not. That sounds lovely. That is, if it’s amenable to you, Sherlock.” 

“I’m sure I could cope with it,” he replied, faux-dramatically. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Quarter of an hour later, I was settled in their bed. I had become so tired that it did not occur to me to feel strange. The bed was comfortable, and I had just begun to doze off when the gentlemen entered the room. They got into the bed on either side of me, John gathering me into his arms and Sherlock snuggling up to my back and resting his hands on my waist. 

“Are you comfortable, Mary?” John murmured. 

I sighed contentedly. “Yes, my loves. This is wonderful.” 

All three of us slept soundly until the morning, wrapped around each other in cosy bliss.


	4. all I know is I wanna be here with you from now on

It rained for three days. The children and I were going stir-crazy and they simply would not focus on anything I said. When it finally stopped raining on the Thursday, I decided that we should go out for a walk. We set out for Hyde Park, dodging the worst of the puddles and trying to avoid being drenched by passing carriages. 

When we reached the park, I gave the children rein to play, so long as they remained in sight. I settled myself on a bench, enjoying the fresh air. 

“Mary?” 

The sound of my name startled me. I looked in the direction of the speaker and found it was my good friend, Kate Whitney. We greeted each other and began exchanging our news. 

“You look very happy, Mary,” Kate said. “Is there an equally happy young man to thank for it?” 

I giggled. “Maybe. I couldn’t possibly divulge such personal information.” 

She was quite correct, of course. I was happier than I had been for a long time. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

That Friday, I went prepared to stay the night. The three of us cuddled up on the settee after supper, at liberty to kiss and touch as we wished. 

It was getting late when John asked, “Should we go to bed?” 

“If you don’t mind,” I said rather hesitantly, “I would like to – um – to try – try making love. The three of us.” 

“I thought you would never ask,” John said huskily. 

He kissed me hungrily, then Sherlock did the same. When they let me up, I went to prepare myself for bed. I changed into a loose chemise, then braided my hair. Then I settled myself in the bed, indulging myself in wicked thoughts of what was to come. 

When the gentlemen entered the room, they too sat on the bed. John took my hand, lightly stroking my fingers. 

“Tonight is for you, Mary,” he said softly. “What would you like?” 

I knew precisely what I wanted. It had long been a fantasy of mine. “I should very much like to watch you two please each other.” 

I propped myself up against the pillows and watched as Sherlock and John kissed. They started slowly and gradually became more heated. They removed each other’s nightshirts, hands caressing every inch of skin they could find. Then Sherlock took them both in hand and John moaned his name. 

Unable to resist the desire building within me, I reached a hand between my legs and touched myself. Teasing my folds open with a finger, I timed my thrusts with the movement of Sherlock’s hand. Brushing my thumb over my clit with every stroke of my fingers, I could feel heat pooling. The sight of the two gentlemen spilling over Sherlock’s hand with mingled moans sent me over the edge and I climaxed. 

All three of us gazed at each other, our breaths coming in gasps. I thought neither of them had looked so beautiful as they did then. 

“What now, my love?” Sherlock purred, reaching for me. 

“I want your fingers, Sherlock,” I breathed. “I’ve dreamed of them so many times.” 

He kissed me, then moved to position himself between my thighs. I removed my chemise, then reached for John and pulled him down into a kiss. Our tongues caressed as Sherlock slid a finger between my folds. Moaning into John’s mouth, I guided his hands to my breasts. The friction against my nipples was exquisite, driving me further towards my climax. When he moved his mouth to one and sucked at the bud, I cried out. 

“Oh John. Yes.” 

Sherlock grinned wickedly. “May I try something?” 

I nodded and he lowered his head. He licked at my clit experimentally. 

“Sherlock,” I gasped, throwing my head back. 

Bolder now, he swirled his tongue around my clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers within me. With this treatment, it did not take long for me to climax for a second time. 

“John,” I murmured, “I would have you share my pleasure too.” 

His eyes glittered with desire when he raised his head to look at me. “What do you want, darling?” 

“I want you to fill me.” 

John exchanged places with Sherlock, who kissed me so that I might taste myself on his tongue. Then he kissed down my throat to nip and suck at my collar bone, where no-one but us would see the marks he left. 

“Are you read, Mary?” John asked. He had slicked himself and was positioned at my entrance. 

I nodded and he entered me. Both of us gasped. He stilled for a moment, letting me adjust. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, looking at me and Sherlock with such tenderness I thought my heart might burst. 

“So are you,” I breathed back. 

He began to move again, making us both sigh with pleasure. 

“Just a little more, John,” I urged him. 

Already sensitive, I climaxed quickly. He spilled into me soon afterwards, then collapsed to the bed beside me. 

While John recovered, I turned my attention to Sherlock. His cock was fully erect, and he had started to pleasure himself. 

“May I?” I asked him. 

“Please, Mary,” he whimpered. 

I put my hand over his and together we worked him to completion. He spent over our joined hands with a moan, then I wrapped my arms around him, guiding him down to the bed. We shared soft kisses while John went to fetch a cloth with which to clean us. 

When he came back, John cleaned us all gently, then he snuggled up to my back. I still held Sherlock and John wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling soft kisses to the back of my neck. 

“I love you,” I murmured to both of them. “This is bliss.”


End file.
